


The Fabulous Destiny of Molly Hooper

by wilhelms



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilhelms/pseuds/wilhelms
Summary: After 4x03. Molly was upset about something, Sherlock was in the deep waters, he asked, she told him. But what will happen next? Will Sherlock be able to cope? Will she? A bit of a twist in it :).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderful stories I have read about Sherlolly and here I´m adding my own! My attempt (no idea how successful) is writing it partly realisticaly, party a bit fluffy because we all need that in our lives :). 
> 
> I´m not a native speaker, so I´m sorry for all my mistakes. 
> 
> Thank you for giving it a chance.

Molly Hooper, the name not many cared to remember. An appearance of a woman that partly forgot to grow up. 35 of age, but dressed in the clothes that were a mixture of "I´m a poor uni student" and "I still have plush animals on my bed". Not ugly enough to be called ugly, not pretty enough to be called beautiful. Molly Hooper was ordinary when it came to looks and despite her brilliant mind, she wasn´t the gold fish in her pond. Brilliant in academics when she was at school, she didn´t excell at university. A good doctor, qualified, quick, caring, incredibly intelligent, but not exceptional. She was good with children, she loved them, all that goochie goochie playing and that stealing noses, but it took time for them to warm up to her. Couple of friends outside work, one or two in the morgue (they had similar sense of humour and after all there was a bit of bonding as the rest of the world would mark them "weird") and the outside ones, well apart from her two girlfriends from school, those were John Watson, Sherlock Holmes (her crush) and Mrs. Hudson (her sorta "auntie" figure who she had never had). Of course there was also her mother and an occasional boyfriend. 

An occasional boyfriend meant someone who was brought by Lucy, her best friend from grammar school, who remarried for the second time, had two kids and was a secretary with a flat in East London. Molly knew Lucy meant well, Lucy was one of these caring people, perhaps a bit of a gossip, she always had to know everything about everyone and if it wasn´t for the old friendship Molly and her would never be friends in adult life. She ALWAYS tried to pair her up with someone and that even despite Molly´s protests and her never-dying love for the Holmes-boy. 

Molly went on dates, drank wine, ate the good dinner and got the best of the boring conversations and Hollywood soppy movies. Most guys were as desperate as her, some of them were more interesting than the others, she even met some that she wished would call, but they did not, she also met those who she wished would never called, but they did, but that was life. Molly´s life. She got used to it. 

Jared was an American doctor, successful, presumably rich, a bit younger than her, handsome with interesting sharp features. American with a German father and Italian mother, a wonderful mix. Molly did not ask where did she find him, but he was GORGEOUS. They drank wine, had dinner at an expensive restaurant and Jared being the biggest jerk in town at that day took Molly home. She wasn´t exceptionally pretty, not to him, but he was exceptionally lonely and Molly despite never being that type of girl to sleep with the guy the first night, broke that self-created image of a good girl and had some fun. 

Molly, the good girl. Molly, the one who was always so careful with everything and who always ended up in the awkward situations was now in one. 

That afternoon when Sherlock called she was crying over the sink, in her expensive kitchen (partly built with the inherited money after her father died). Indeed, if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans. Molly was pregnant. 

When Sherlock asked her to tell him she loved him, she was crying. Her heart was breaking, her hands shaking. She hoped to hear it from him first, "You bastard". The words that she wished to hear all those years. Those words that she imagined those wonderful lips saying and now when she heard them, it felt odd. Was he lying? Was he telling the truth? What should she make out of it? He said it was an experiment, but yet he said them first, what did it mean? He was Sherlock Holmes after all, he could lie, but then he also had a heart, didn´t he? 

She waited, the days passed, she took a leave from work, she had to see her doctor, she needed to hear it confirmed and she closed the door, she slept for days, cried, ate as much chocolate as she wanted, cried a bit, but she knew the decision was made before she even thought about it. She was never the one to think about baby clothes, baby names, prams and so on, but she knew this was her last chance. After all, she had help, her mother would be excited, her only child would give her a grandchild, something she didn´t even hope for. Molly would be .... she had to admit that.... at least a loving mother, always trying her best and she already started to get better with little Rosie, poor darling has survvied one year of babysitting by Molly Hooper and always was happy to stretch her arms to great Auntie Molly, she had to be at least decent, right? They say little kids know who they love. 

It took Sherlock a week to get out of his flat. He didn´t wish to admit that,but certainly he needed a holiday. John took Rosie to the countryside to visit some friends and his sister. Mycroft left ...somewhere and Sherlock stayed in London, sending Mrs Hundson for groceries because he wished to pretend he was dead. Everyone was tired and everyone was selfish, but that selfishness was what they all deserved. They respected each other´s space. 

But Sherlock and Molly..... 

that burning question was still there. How much of what he has said was true? 

Because not only Molly wondered, but also Sherlock wondered. The fact that his heart really broke (despite the metaphore in it, he knew his heart was perfectly fine, he has never had cardiac problems in his life, surprisingly so, though) when he realized he had to say those words to her just because he was foolish to believe that she would die. But why did it hurt so much? Was it right? Was it really what he was feeling or was it just the fear of losing a dear friend? 

With Irene he felt..... enchanted. She was beautiful, she seduced him, she absolutely captivated him, her mind, her twisted soul, they were probably too much alike. She didn´t give up, she was that woman every man and every woman wanted and she knew it. Her being in the room, she ruled them all. But Molly was different, she wasn´t sexy, she wasn´t confident, her posture was always a bit of that "shy schoolgirl" her hands crossed in front of her, she never knew what to do with her hands, her hair always in a shy ponytail (when she was feeling good, she usually let them loose), she just wasn´t Irene and she gave up trying to be like Irenes ten years ago, yet there was something that Irene did not have and that was .... kindness. 

When Irene made Sherlock question his sexuality and the decission whether he has really given up sex for life, Molly has made him question the fact whether he wasn´t interested in living with someone in a relationship. He could imagine sweet morning kisses from Molly, warm tea with toasts, cuddles in the evening, her legs in his, little cheeky smiles. He wondered, he thought about.... well it was all just an experiment, after all. 

He wished to think so, but after he could not sleep at night, he had to ask her, he had to see her. To a huge surprise of Mrs Hundson, he left his flat to seek Molly Hooper, obviously he knew where she lived. She wasn´t home, so he waited. She went to do some shopping and when she came back she found him leaning on her door. 

"Sherlock" was all that she could say before her mouth became so dry she could barely swallow.   
"Molly" he said.   
Oh, how she hated his snappy answers. It was like talking to a child........yes, a child. After all, it won´t be too different taking care after a little one, was there such a big difference? Well, John had couple of jokes about that. 

"would you like to come in?" she was trying to be polite.   
"otherwise I would not be there, would I?" typical Sherlock-manner that she ignored.   
"Pardon me, Molly, that wasn´t ...polite. It would be nice if I could." wow a step forward!   
She smiled back at him. Good boy.   
"Tea? Coffee? Water?"   
"Tea, please"   
she was glad he chose a drink, that meant two things: 

a) she could do something which lowered the stress (just sitting there would kill her)   
b) his intention was of a longer visit

"Molly, I ... " usually Sherlock didn´t bother to dance around things he wanted to say, but this time it was different.   
"You want to talk about the experiment?" she answered so quickly, she was sure it was all done in one breath and it was probably hard to understand.   
"Yes" he said unsure, he tried to carefully watch her body language, but she hid herself behind making him a good cup of tea (some new precise method, probably)   
"I was in a situation when I thought you would die, if I didn´t ask you to tell me so"   
"Oh" was all she managed to say. SO IT WAS ALL JUST A GAME. But what can you say to that except couple of vulgar words or .... oh.   
"Molly, I wish I could explain, but it would be a long story"   
"plenty of time, Sherlock, I have a lot of tea bags in my kitchen. I deserve it, I ... do deserve it" and she said it in her heartbreaking voice, her eyes were tired, now when he could see them, he realized there was something going on in her life and it wasn´t about being the awkward Molly Hooper who works at morgue and has a crush on a man who has no idea how to explain his feelings. Molly Hooper was a human being who was a tiny bit from breaking down in front of him.   
So he started to talk and he talked so calmly that it surprised both of them. He told her the history of Sherlock Holmes, the history that only three people in this world knew: his brother, his best friend and now Molly Hooper, his.... 

She was sitting there, astonished, sad, touched, and she did not dare to ask the question. THE QUESTION (but how do you really feel about me?) because how can you ask it when you have just heard about a person´s tragic childhood, about someone´s broken family, someone´s broken heart? 

so they sat in silence. she looked at him, sipping tea, he carefully studied the bag of the Earl Grey. (he wished it wasn´t a tea bag, he hated tea bags). 

But those two seconds were killing her. 

"Sherlock, was it.... was it true?"   
"The story? of course, it was. why would I make something like that up, Molly? That would be too much even for me."   
"No, Sherlock, your feelings. Did you say so just because you thought I was going to die or because.... you really feel that way?"   
The question was there, she said it YAY!   
"I don´t know" he said honestly. 

She said nothing, she just turned her head and looked at the painting on her wall. One that she had. Her eyes were filling up with tears, so she closed them, but she didn´t hide or run away, she just looked so tired, so so tired. 

"I am pregnant Sherlock" 

Sherlock, at first wanted to say something along the lines, but not by me, but even he realized that would be stupid to do at that moment. So he didn´t say anything but "congratulations" 

"No, Sherlock, you don´t understand."   
"I´m glad you are in a relationship and happy and you are going to be a mother" his words came out of his mouth so quickly, his chest war burning with fire, shit he missed it, shit now she was going to be a part of someone else´s life and he fucked it up, again. but why did it matter so much? why did it matter?   
"he doesn´t know, Sherlock. I don´t even know his surname" and that was when she started crying, when she broke. 

And if John Watson taugh him something, it was that at the moments of crying, people needed hugs and he hugged her, he hugged her so tightly that the world seemed like a safe place. The world was Sherlock and if he ever was someone´s hero, it was hers. 

Molly Hooper´s hero.


	2. Chasing Mr.Darcy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First date, first kiss :). I just love them a tiny bit too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thx for that lovely feedback!   
> Never has had so many kuddos in my ten years of writing on fanfiction.net, tumblr and here!

Well he said it, there it was, now the decision has been made. For Sherlock at least, but Molly Hooper, the girl who had never stopped dreaming was left with the adrenaline rush and feelings of dizziness. Her head was spinning, her body was shaking. Was it because of pregnancy or because the love of her love has just admitted to her that he might have similar feelings to hers? Was he just being nice? No, she was sure if she ever could be sure about something, Sherlock either felt things completely or he just didn´t feel them at all. 

He LOVES her, he LOVES her. Molly took a pencil and a piece of paper and out of childishness drew couple of hearts with arrows and hers and Sherlock´s name. She blushed for herself and threw the art piece away.

Wow, here it was. 

Sherlock, as cool as he usually was, felt very vaguely about what he has just done. In love, love, feelings, people, women..... how little he actually knew about all that stuff. Sure, as a teenager at the prestige boarding school, he had a briliant access to ... rich sources of maganizes and pictures, but they never really attracted him. Weirdly shaped women with enormous breasts and tiny underwear... he wondered if that was supposed to be pretty. Was it? Apparently yes. His classmates seemed to enjoy them. While others went into great lenghts to discuss their bodies, feelings and dreams he would rather read some forumlas than anything. First loves were omitted as were any body-related talks. 

Yet, even Sherlock Holmes was human and even Sherlock Holmes felt some sexual fascination when he saw Irene Adler. Not because she was naked in front of him, but because she was an embodiment of sex. She could seduce a woman or a man, dressed in a potato bag.   
But Molly. Molly was ..... charming, funny, cute, intelligent, pretty, she could be really beautiful when she got into real adult clothes and she had a heart in the right place, not that Irene didn´t. Well, she was human after all. 

So what was he to do? Lestrade came with a solution. A murder! Bless him and yet unfortunately it turned out to be one of these "rich kids overdose" cases, which meant that he was back to overthinking in two days. 

Two days. For "ordinary" humans that would mean questioning whether your other half meant his words or was only joking, but Molly knew better. She was smiling over dead bodies and knives. The dog days were over. She gave him two days, but now it was time to be the brave girl. To hell with watching Love Actually over and over! To hell with Bridget Jones! (actually no, no, she was taking her words quickly back). She was going to take her Mr.Darcy back! 

A message as plain as "How are you?" originally she planned to say "Hi. How are you" but Sherlock said he was deleting all those messages so she avoided the greeting. Still it felt wrong, too boring. "Any murders in the town?" she giggled, that suited their style better. 

Sherlock frowned over the message, desperately trying to lie to himself that he wasn´t expecting her message anxiously.   
"Bored" he waited for 15 minutes until he replied back, he wasn´t needy, was he?   
He knew what was coming, yet nothing was logical anymore. She was going to ask him out, they were going to set a date, so he dialed the number. 

"Today, 6 o´clock" and that was it, he said it in one breath, no chance of saying no, but she didn´t mind. She knew him. he was nervous and it actually made her so happy that someone was finally nervous BECAUSE OF HER. She giggled to herself and hugged her pillow, a glance at "Love Actually" DVD. 

\---------------------  
(the night) 

Molly had the whole day to prepare. What Sherlock wanted to avoid, Molly was enjoying to every single nanosecond. She actually enjoyed that she was nervous, she spent three hours picking her outfit. She came home early. She did her make up tutorial by looking up the make up tutorial on youtube and blew her hair so well that if Sherlock Holmes was not going to marry this woman she would marry herself in a minute. She looked at her belly, still small, barely visible, but she could not help but stroke it a bit. "Come on, girl, let´s make the boy blush" and she said it without realizing that she already ascribed sex to her yet small bean. But mothers often know. 

When Molly was dolling herself up, Sherlock was googling embarrassing questions like "what to do on your first date" and the last one was "how to please women". Surely he could have asked John, but that would be..... no, he couldn´t. He would never allow John to enjoy the moment of joy.   
He got ready, suited up, arranged his precious curles, he wondered if he should shave or not. Maybe she loved him stubbled? He has never asked. 

He came early and wasn´t surprised to see Molly standing there as well. She was charming and he did not need any instructions from the Internet to know what to say. 

"You are gorgeous Molly Hooper. Green suits you, it matches your hair and makes you look fresh. Have you washed your hair?"   
"Now, I prefer the first part, Sherlock. Is that surprising for you that I would wash my hair?"   
"No, I....."   
She shushed him and took his arm. He was surprised by the sudden touch,but he hoped his face didn´t give up too much and he smiled at her. 

"This?" he pointed at the restaurant.   
It had cats in it. Molly laughed. She loved cats, but she was sure he didn´t. What kind of idea was that? Wasn´t Sherlock Holmes a famous detective who was capable of solving the hardest of crimes? And here they were, he thought that just because she had a cat, she was a desperate cat lady. Oh, the stories this date will make! 

They entered and Sherlock was quick to find a table. Many single ladies turned their heads, mostly women, friends, some crying over broken hearts, others looking bitter. One or two men with glasses, they were all fitting stereotypes of the place.   
Molly smiled, apologizing, but her soul was laughing. 

Sherlock was clumsy, he was trying to get rid off of cats, hairs and that terrible smell that one of the tomcats decided to leave after himself. 

"Is this a good place?" he asked. 

"No, Sherlock, it is not. The first date should be romantic. This is just... not even Mrs. Hudson would go here. Plus the smell and my state"   
He had to agree. "Sorry" his eyes were trying to avoid her, he looked like a little boy. He forgot about the pregnancy. Oh, yes. Pregnancy. Baby. He should have studied it in more depth as well. 

"So, you want? ...."   
"I´d love fish and chips, a cup of tea and the Natural History Museum has a night exhibition." She smiled.   
"Really? You would love that?"   
"Well, nothing better than to make out in front of the dead animals, right" she giggled, while Sherlock looked mortified.   
"Just joking" she said, oh my gosh, she whispered.   
"About making out or about the dead animals?" he smirked.   
"oh, mister! you are learning so fast!" 

He leaned to kiss her, his hand touching her soft hair, while the next one fighting the fluffy bastard.   
Her hair was so soft, and her lips were so ... he wished he studied literature more, it was John´s work to be good with words.   
His head was spinning, he didn´t close his eyes, instead he looked at hers. Hers were half-closed, she was looking down at his lips or maybe floor, hard to tell. But when he stopped pressing his lips on hers, when he tried to slip a tip of his tongue into her mouth he apologized. "Was that any good?" 

Molly was taken back. She was shaking. Was she his first kiss? WAS SHE SHERLOCK HOLMES´ FIRST KISS? Was he saving the kiss for all those years for her, Molly Hooper? The queen of awkwardness? 

Oh gosh, she was so sure she was going to overplaying that moment in her head till no end.


End file.
